Page 54 of Broken Ties
Nox doesn’t acknowledge my presence at all as his gaze stays fixed on the painting hanging behind Myer’s head. It once hung in the dining room of my parents’ house, the one I couldn’t step foot in after my mother’s death, and I’d forgotten until now that all of my father’s art collection has been put on display around the Draven campus at William’s request.
The act to keep his brother’s memory and legacy alive without rousing the suspicions of the council has clearly disturbed Nox with memories from a childhood that should’ve never been inflicted upon him.
I take the seat next to him, folding myself with a practiced ease into a position that makes it clear that no matter which side of the desk I’m sitting on, my word on this matter will be final.It’s rare that I’m forced to act this way, but I’d do anything to protect my brother—and my Bond.
Myer glances between us both, clearly stumped, before he gives me a tight smile as he dabs at the sweat on his brow. “I understand this is a delicate situation, but I’ve found myself in a rather difficult position.”
Leaning back in my seat, I shrug. “I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an agreement on the right solution.”
Myer’s eyes flick in Nox’s direction before they return to meet mine. “You seem very sure, but unfortunately, Professor Draven doesn’t appear to share those same sentiments.”
It’s almost impossible not to grind my teeth or to show my frustrations outwardly, and the sedate smile on my face is on the brink of falling apart. I refuse to look at Nox or bring him into the conversation at all. Any opening for vitriol and violence will surely be taken by him in this state, and Myer wouldn’t survive the clash.
“Oleander Fallows has attended all of her classes and participated in the discussions respectfully enough. This is out of character and should only be disciplined with a warning.”
Myer looks like he wants to die rather than continue, but to his credit, he does. “Even if I were to accept that, Councilman Draven, it doesn’t solve the issue entirely. There’s no value in a student attending a class they will fail. Which Professor Draven has made clear to me that she will.”
Blood and pain.
The very last thing this discussion needs is my bond chiming in. A black bank of smoke circles my wrist in warning, and when I shift slightly to conceal it, Nox’s attention finally lands on me. He doesn’t look at me or even shift a little in my direction, but the curl of his lip says more than enough.
“As long as Fallows is able to attend class, there are no further requirements of Professor Draven in this matter. I willtake over the rest. If attending class in person is intolerable, she can switch to watching the lectures online. She will be attending the classes, and Professor Draven will continue in his position—both without recourse.”
Vivian Wentley doesn’t often givean order or make a demand, but when he does, I clear my schedule for him without question.
You need to make time for me today.
The ambiguity of those eight words, no greeting or niceties to soften them, settle over me like an uncomfortable weight on my shoulders. I’m not afraid of the man like so many of my peers, but I respect the hell out of him. If he’s seeking me out with such urgency, it’s worth my time and notice. That doesn’t mean it’s an easy task to clear time from my schedule, today of all days.
By the time his text came through, I’d already seen my enraged, weeping Bond safely back to her dorm room, and though a resolution was reached for the situation, I don’t feel any satisfaction.
The car ride back to the manor with Gryphon was also fraught with tension thanks to my seething frustration and his bullish ire. I only began reading my Bond’s paper to channel my shitty attitude away from starting yet another pointless fight, but by my third pass, I’d forgotten anything else existed but her.
Gryphon pointedly refused to utter a word to me, probably certain he’d only make matters worse, and we’re already on strained terms as it is, but once he pried the pages from me to read himself, the contempt had all but dissolved from the air.
There’s no great secret to why I’m obsessed by it, though. She’s not spilling all of her secrets into it, but with every passover it, I’m undeniably uncovering more about my Bond than any conversation I’ve ever attempted to engage in.
As pioneers in the Gifted education and research, continuing to lead the community by example and prioritizing high education is one of the many mantles I was expected to take up as the heir to the Draven family, but it was also one of the only paths that Nox chose to walk down beside me without contest.
His enthusiasm for education and research was key in building a rapport with him when William and I brought him home, and as a result, after I’d gotten my Bachelor’s degree with double major in History and Gifted Policy Administration, I’d gone on to get my Master’s and then my Doctoral degree as well.
I didn’t need them to sit on the council, and very rarely do any of the other council members form an argument with enough skill to have me falling back on that exemplary education. It has, however, enabled me to pick up the slack when my brother has fallen behind on his duties, and I’ve marked at least a thousand other assignments on the exact topic as my Bond’s.
No matter how skilled, or lacking, you can read a Gifted’s character surprisingly easily from a History 101 paper. Subtle word choices when discussing the war, the way they center certain events over others, which horrors they struggle to remain unbiased about; all of it paints a picture of the mind behind the words.
Oleander Fallows loathes the Resistance and everything they stand for.
She’s also terrified of them.
I should be relieved to know she’s not the naive and childish Bond she pretends to be, but instead, I spend the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening talking my bond down from disappearing into the night to hunt down those who would take her from us. As her words circle around endlessly in my mind,my heartbeat becomes a war drum, calling my shadows to arms and inviting me to spill out the darkness within.
It’s almost impossible to ignore.
Lost in my own thoughts, I don’t realize we’ve arrived back at the manor until Gyphon wrenches me back to reality abruptly. “Is Nox happy with the outcome of his petty games or should I continue to be concerned for my Bond’s welfare?”
Turning to find him staring over the top of the paper at me, it’s as though there's something more interesting in my face for him than within my Bond’s writings but how that could possibly be true, I have no idea.
I wait until Rafe turns the car off and slides out of the driver's seat tactfully, before I answer. "I told you I’d handle the situation with Nox and I have—either you trust me with that or not. Besides, you’d know better than anyone what the state of Oleander’s well-being is.”